The Allure of Freedom
by Nightowl445
Summary: The pipe slams into my face, knocking me to the floor. I lie there, weeping pathetically as they torture me. "I failed...I'm sorry." Everyone in this prison has something in common, we all resisted Loki, and failed. We all fell for the allure of freedom. (AU in which Loki defeated the Avengers)


_This is my first Avengers fic, so I hope it's okay!_

_This can sort of stand on it's own, but I may continue it if time allows (which is likely)._

_I do not own the Avengers series. _

_And now that that's out of the way, on with the story!_

* * *

Prologue

_I'm sitting on a bench in Central Park. It's autumn, and the leaves have changed to varying shades of orange and red, the grass is lush and green and the sound of children playing echoes through the park. "Evelyn" says a voice, I look up and smile. "Hi David." I say cheerfully, he sits down next to me and hands me a cup, "coffee?" I accept it gratefully, and take a sip enjoying its bitter, crisp flavor, David hasn't taken his eyes off me. I remove the cup from my lips, "wait" I say, "This isn't real." I stand up. _

_"__What's wrong, Evey?" He asks, standing up quickly, looking genuinely concerned. _

_The world is coming apart now, people are screaming in the distance. "I'm not here" I whisper "I'm…in a cell…"_

My eyes shoot open. _Just a dream, just a dream_. That's all it ever is, a dream. I'm in prison and David is dead. It's my fault he's dead.

The room smells of excrement and sweat. The walls are cold, unadorned steel, the floors are exactly the same so that it's hard to tell where the floor stops and the wall begins. The only light comes from two tiny chinks in the wall. There is no bed, no chairs, no sign that someone is living-well, _existing-_ here at all really. Except for the human.

The days bleed together here. I don't know if I've been in here for weeks or months. I don't remember how long it's been since I took a bath, brushed my hair, laughed…the list goes on and on. I hear the sound of a key jiggling in the lock, I look up as the door opens. "Again." I mutter breathlessly. The door opens and two gray creatures walk inside, they lift me off of the floor and drag me down the dark, lonely hallway. I know what's coming. The hallway rings with the sobs and screams of other prisoners, each alike in their misery. We reach a door at the end of the hall, the guards open it and drag me inside.

The room is just as empty and dank as my cell aside from a lone plastic chair in the center of the room. They force me onto it and shackle my arms and legs. There is a brief pause. All of a sudden the room is bathed in light, the light stings my eyes and burns my skin. I blink profusely as I wait for my eyes to adjust. "Good morning Evelyn." Says a familiar voice from over a speaker.

This interrogation of course, will not be carried out by the man who truly wants me broken, but it will be carried out by the next best thing; his one human advisor. He waits for a long moment. "Is it morning?" I grunt. There is a hint of a laugh over the speaker. "Feeling cheeky today, eh?" I sigh in lieu of an answer. The man's name is Elliot Cook, it's hard to believe that there was a time when I called him "Uncle Elliot", but it is a fact which he has never let me forget.

"Let's begin," he says sweetly. "Name? Last, and then first."

"Dyson, Evelyn Jane."

"Date and place of birth?"

"April 23rd 2019, the Bronx, New York."

The rudimentary questions are over, now, the real ones begin.

"Who is Loki of Asgard?"

I pause, "a monster."

Before I have time to steel myself, I feel a fist slam into my lower jaw. My body falls out of the chair and collides with the floor. I groan, already feeling the bruise forming on my jaw, this is just a warning, the worst will come later. I am grabbed roughly by the shoulders and forced back into the chair, my head is yanked upwards, giving me no choice but to stare directly into the bright, blinding light.

"Let's try this again." Says Elliot with mock patience. "Name?"

"Dyson, Evelyn Jane."

"Date and place of birth?"

"April 23rd 2019, the Bronx, New York."

"Who is Loki of Asgard?"

"A terrorist."

Something hard and cylindrical slams into my chest, the chair falls over and I tumble onto the floor, rolling once before coming to a stop. My eyes water from the pain, a fit of nausea comes over me and I vomit onto the floor. This is just the beginning.

Again I am forced into the chair, I stare into the light listlessly.

"Must we go through this again?" Asks Elliot. I do not answer.

"Name?"

"Dyson, Evelyn Jane."

This goes on for quite some time. He always asks the same questions, I always provide similar answers, and am rewarded with more pain.

"Who is Loki of Asgard?"

"A tyrant."

The pipe slams into the side of my face, my head snaps upwards and my head collides with the floor. I'm crying now, wailing pathetically as they torture me, but I still haven't given in. I refuse to pledge allegiance to Loki, I can't do it, not after all David and I went through. They force me into the chair again, tears stream down my face.

"Who is Loki of Asgard?" One of the creatures demands,

"The devil incarnate!" I respond.

The chitauri growls and raises the pipe over his head to strike again.

"Stop!" Says a voice.

The three of us look up at the source. The man standing there is tall, his pinkish skin burnt from hours in the brightly lit interrogation room. His graying black hair is well kept and stops just below his ears, his eyes, obscured by a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, are sharp and brown. It's Elliot, _what's he doing? _

"Back away." He says to the chitauri, they cautiously do as their told. He looks down at me with a controlled smile. "What? No hug for Uncle Elliot?" I look away from him defiantly. He bends down to my level and yanks my chin forward to face him. "You know the only reason King Loki hasn't boiled you into a soup like your friend is because of me?"

This gives me pause. I did not know that. "Why?" I mutter.

"We were like family." He says, with what appears to be genuine concern "I love you." I swallow hard, it was true, he had been an uncle to me, and I an affectionate niece, those days had ended long ago.

"Evey, _please_, all you have to do to get out of this is swear your loyalty to the king-"

"Oh yeah" I say sarcastically, "and if I'm _really _good, Loki will give me his gift, and I'll be controlled for the rest of my life like all those others!"

"Would that be so bad?" He asks me sincerely. "You would be healthy, and happy."

"I would be a soulless little doll!"

His patience is obviously wearing very thin, he grabs me by the scruff of me neck and stares into my eyes. "Stop fighting, give in!" He demands.

"No!" I cry weakly, "I will never stop fighting, never!"

His brown eyes flicker with fury. Growling with frustration, he jams his knee into my chest. I grunt and he drops me onto the floor. I barely have time to look up before a sharp bolt of electricity runs through my system. I am completely unprepared for this pain, and scream at the top of my lungs. I barely have time to breathe before he jams me with the weapon again, this time the pain is even more severe. He does this a total of ten times before stopping. I lie trembling on the floor with my arms shielding my head protectively, I look up at him through the gaps in my fingers. He stares down at me, a thin wand pulsating with electricity in his left hand. Behind the rage in his eyes there is a hint of regret.

"Guards!" He calls, "take her back to her cell, we're finished for the day."

The drag me to my feet, I am barely able to stand let alone walk. I am taken back down the corridor and thrown back into my cold, unforgiving cell.

Alone, in the dark, I weep to myself. "David…" I mumble through my tears, "I failed…I'm sorry…"

Next to me I hear a door open, another prisoner is being dragged off to interrogation.

Everyone in this prison has something in common, we all resisted Loki, and failed.

We had all fallen for the allure of freedom.


End file.
